


Idle Hands

by therickykitty



Series: The Wolf of Skyhold [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Lazy Sex, M/M, Morning Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 00:26:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3708493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therickykitty/pseuds/therickykitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desya receives quite the wake-up call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idle Hands

Desya had little difficulty falling asleep, but he certainly wasn't hard to wake up. Especially when he could feel calloused fingers slide and dance across his chest and down to tenderly squeeze his hips. Try as he might, Desya could not will himself to ignore it, and with how skillfully they were working his muscles he wasn't sure he wanted to ignore it. He moaned plaintively when he felt Samson's stubble graze across his skin as the man planted a kiss against his shoulder.

"Mmm. Vhenan - not that I'm complaining - but it may be too early for this. I'm still trying to recover from last night," the elf sighed. The other man growled something he was unable to articulate, and he couldn't stifle his gasp as teeth nipped against his neck and trailed up to suck and nibble along the tip of his pointed ear.

"'M always hungry, dove. We wolves are ravenous carnivores, you know. Always eager to snatch up pretty wayward hares," Samson growled breathily, making sure to rub and slide against him for good measure.

Desya sighed and tilted his head lethargically. Half-lidded emerald met Samson's dull gold, and he decided to take the initiative for once and claimed the surprised older man's lips in a deep, eager kiss. The older Commander narrowed his eyes to gleaming slits, and with a muffled growl practically devoured and plundered Desya's lips in a clash of teeth and tongue. He swallowed the elf's whimpers and mewls, groaning as he rutted and slid across the elf's delectable rump.

Samson was the first to break contact, panting and swallowing loudly. It was rare for Desya to take such initiative, and it always drove the old wolf to a needle-fine point. He nosed against his nape and mouthed hungrily over to the elf's shoulder. Samson felt his lean lover tremble and whine softly beneath him, and the very moment his hips rolled back and slid against his throbbing member his resolve snapped.

"Desya?" he queried, sliding a hand back to massage the elf's buttocks, sliding a few fingers between them. "Please love, I gotta know...can I?" Fingers circle teasingly around the young man's rim, stroking the slightly puffy entrance that was - thankfully - still rather moist from last night's endeavors.

The body stilled beneath him and Maker be damned if he didn't suck in his breath at the gorgeous display in front of him. A sheen glistening of sweat practically shimmered off his bronze skin, his silver hair utterly undone and splayed across his back and over his shoulders; it reminded Samson of cascading waves, with stray strands slipping tantalizingly down his back. Desya - with great effort - slid onto his elbows, and leveled Samson with a gaze he would take to his grave that could bring even the most devout Sister to her knees.

“Lethallin...please....”

Samson wasted no time after that and stretched over to grasp the vial of oil they had, quickly getting to work slicking and gently loosening his hole, giving tender squeezes to his hips and buttocks ever so often. With some time, he applied gentle pressure and eased his lover back into being comfortable on his fingers, relishing the way Desya moved his hips back on his own. After what felt like ages, Samson tenderly slid them out and stroke his entrance lovingly, lined himself up, and took his time slowly, gently, easing his way back inside him.

Desya sighed and laid flat on his stomach, purring at the weight on top of him as the older man simply settled and moved slightly against him. Minutes ticked by before Samson gently moved against him, planting kisses along the elf’s shoulder, enfolding his body with strong arms back to his chest. He maneuvered them both easily so they lay on their side, languidly moving in and out of him, lazily making love to him while light began to spill through the stained Serault glass adorning Desya’s walls.

Soon the room began to fill with soft whimpers and a building crescendo of panting and grunts. The gentle, slow pace they began with began to escalate with each snap of Samson’s hips. He tilted Desya’s head back and kissed him deeply, stifling his growing cries as he ground his hips and pressed inside him. Samson knew it wouldn’t be long for either of them and began angling his thrusts just so to hit that delicious bundle of nerves inside the elf. When Desya broke away and cried out - such a beautiful piercing sound - the old Templar grinned and thrust repeatedly at that spot. 

Finally, Desya whimpered and cried out, practically mewling as Samson milked that spot, his body wracked with his orgasm while his member spilled all over the bed. With a few more thrusts Samson grunted and groaned loudly, spilling inside his lover once more. Calloused hands slowly slid across Desya’s sweat-slicked chest, peppered kisses trailing all over the elf’s neck and back. The elf sighed and leaned back, his body sore but so delightfully warm and sated once again.

“Creators...lethallin...I swear, you’re going to be the one to send me to the Beyond one of these days,” Desya panted, sighing and relaxing against Samson’s solid body.

“Heh, as long as I go with you, snowflake, I can die happy,” the wolf sighed.

“Promises, promises. I don’t suppose I had any duties this morning?”

“Are you bloody serious? Not anymore today, you don’t,” Samson snorted and tugged the thick furs back around them both. Trying to block out any possible missions or training that awaited them both seemed an easy task, and Samson promised he’d snarl at anyone that even thought of coming to their room and asking for some inane report or opinion. Besides, idle hands with a gorgeous creature in his bed had never been his forte to begin with.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? This is only my third smutty fic, so any critiquing is more than welcome. Hopefully I did an alright job. This fic doesn't have much of a timeline, but can be thought of taking place after the main game in Inquisition. Honestly, Desya and Samson could use the day off....to have sex.


End file.
